


The Fate of Barriss Offee

by Merayi



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anger, Angst, Angst and Feels, Barriss needs a hug, Broken Friendship, Character Death, Clone Wars, Communal Meditation, Complicated Relationships, Conflict, Confused Barriss, Death, Death Sentence, Death of the Jedi, Death penalty, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Repressed, Everyone Needs A Hug, Except Tarkin, Execution, Fallen Jedi, Female Friendship, Galactic Empire, Grief/Mourning, Hurt Barriss, Hurt/Comfort, Issues with the Jedi, Jedi Temple (Star Wars), Killing, Luminara Needs a Hug, Luminara is Trying, Luminara with Emotions, Master and Apprentice, Meditation, Missing Scene, Obi-Wan Needs a Hug, Order 66, Other, Please Kill Me, Politics, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Reflection, Regret, Self-Hatred, Shock, Tarkin Needs a Punch in the Face, Tarkin is an asshole, What Happened to Barriss?, really - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-01-21 03:11:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21292676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merayi/pseuds/Merayi
Summary: Basically, What Happens to Barriss.Luminara goes to visit Barriss in jail, tensions run high, and her fate is sealed... but not in the way you'd expect.More characters, tags, and warnings to be added as the story progresses
Relationships: Barriss Offee & Luminara Unduli, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Luminara Unduli
Comments: 11
Kudos: 39





	1. The Jedi Prisoner

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [And This Too Will Lead To Suffering](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6620233) by [crowleyshouseplant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowleyshouseplant/pseuds/crowleyshouseplant). 
  * Inspired by [snapshots](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13560882) by [Kierkegarden](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kierkegarden/pseuds/Kierkegarden). 
  * Inspired by [Pity](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3843892) by [mylordshesacactus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mylordshesacactus/pseuds/mylordshesacactus). 

“Ready?” That one, simple word held so many more questions.

Luminara Unduli looked up, meeting the keen, blue gaze of Obi-Wan Kenobi. Not for the first time, she got the impression that Master Kenobi knew more than he would ever say, that somehow his eyes worked like a holoscanner, piercing through layers of cloudy emotion and protective flesh to see everything that any sapient tried to hide. She supposed that that skill was what had gained him his nickname, The Negotiator. He would have no trouble knowing what to say when he could read all beings around him like open datapads.

Luminara could not recall ever being on the end of Master Kenobi’s knowing gaze like this, and she was ashamed to say that she felt somewhat like a Felucian firefly pierced on the point of an entomologist’s pin. What did Master Kenobi see when he looked at her? Could he pick apart the emotions that sunk heavy like thick fog in her chest? Could he see the thoughts that swarmed in her head and battered the inside of her skull like the tips of vibrorazors? Did he know the pain that sunk like a bevii’ragir through her soul? Did he sense the vicious fight happening in every cell of her being?

Luminara Unduli was a Jedi. She was a Master. She held a seat on the Council. She was what a Jedi should be. She was a good Jedi. Since she was a Youngling, serenity had come as easily to her as swimming came to a Nautolan tadpole.

She was better than this. She was better than this attachment, this betrayal, this weakness, this grief.

Luminara Unduli was a Jedi Guardian and a Senior General of the Grand Army of the Republic. She was one of the Jedi Advisers to the Supreme Chancellor himself. She had helped settle the planetary dispute that had ravaged the planet Anison for over a thousand years. She had defended the sacred world of Ilum. She had survived both the First and Second Great Battles of Geonosis. She had faced both Kaleesh Warlord General Grievous and Dark Assassin Asajj Ventress in close combat. She had managed against Brain Worms and undead Warriors. She had thought her Padawan had been killed more than once, and she had managed to deal with balancing the depth of her grief with what was expected of her.

But this?

This made all her previous achievements look like the fribblous grasping of a Youngling. This would be more difficult than anything she had ever done before, more difficult than any death, any battle, any loss.

She didn’t know if she could do this.

_It wasn’t my fault_, she told herself, _I would never blame Yoda for the same thing. There was nothing I could have done. These are not choices I made._

Why did those words feel as hollow as an gutted shuttlecraft?

“Master Luminara?” Kenobi always sounded so calm.

“Apologies,” she murmured, bowing her head solemnly, “Yes. I’m ready.”

Was she? Really? She didn’t know.

Luminara Unduli stepped forward, and the Clone Guard lowered the red-laser gate. Following a step behind Master Kenobi, she walked past the armed guard, past the imposing entryway, down the identical, labyrinthine corridors, to the last cell on the left.

It was too sudden. Luminara barely recalled walking through the gate, and now here she was. Before the Traitor’s cell.

If she hadn’t seen the footage of the Trial herself, she wouldn’t have believed it.

Behind a wall of red, Barriss Offee sat cross-legged on the durasteel ground. The young paladin had her skirts tucked under her legs, her hands resting open and relaxed on her knees. Other than her apparent ease, she looked far too much as she had in the holovids of the trial. She still lacked her usual capelet robe, and Luminara knew how uncomfortable she must feel to be without her hood; at least her dark hair, at once so neat and messy, was still covered with her gaiter-scarf. Her eyes were closed, her brows above them two angled brush-strokes painting both contrition and composure, her lashes casting fluttering shadows on her cheeks.

Even now, like this, Barriss had fallen back into the old meditation postures Luminara had taught her, even though her Force signature was blanked out by the safeties of the cell. The Jedi Master couldn’t imagine how difficult it must be, to be locked away from the Force so completely.

Barriss looked up, and Luminara nearly staggered. It was only Master Kenobi’s presence, just a few steps behind her now, that reminded her of who she was, how she was supposed to act. She wouldn’t fall apart in front of another member of the Council. It was just… She had seen the footage of the Trial. She knew Barriss had committed an act so egregious that she could not be the same person anymore. Yet, she looked no different than she ever had.

Somehow, somewhere deep inside her, Luminara had not expected to find her old Padawan down here. She had somehow assumed something fundamental - something real as soil and flesh - to have changed. She didn’t know what she expected. Sith-esque red eyes? Scandalous black armour? Scarred cheeks where there had been tattoos? She didn’t know if that would be worse or not.

Luminara should be stronger than this. Yes, Barriss Offee had once been her Padawan, but they hadn’t seen each other in months, not with the War stretching the Jedi so thin. As soon as she had earned her Knighthood, Barriss had been stationed on her own. The mistakes she had made - and the actions she had taken - were no more Luminara’s fault that it was Yoda’s fault that Dooku had turned.

But still… It was so wrong. _It was just so wrong._ Barriss had never let her down before. Barriss was a protégée, a talented Healer, a budding Knight, on the track to becoming a Jedi Consular upon earning the rank of Master. To see her like this, behind a laser-wall, in a Force-resistant cell, disgraced and imprisoned and hurting? Luminara could barely keep her old Padawan’s gaze.

Barriss was a Healer. How could she take so many lives? How could Luminara look at her and feel nothing but pity?

She knew it was wrong. If she felt anything, she should be disappointed and vexed - and she was, oh she was - but everything in her wanted to succumb to the tempest-fight inside her: to unlock the cell, to pull her Padawan into her arms, to break down in tears, to say she was sorry, over and over and over, because so clearly Luminara had failed her, or else they would not now be on different sides of a prison laser wall.

Luminara was starting to cease caring if Master Kenobi could sense her un-Jedi-like emotions. Surely, he - of all Jedi - would understand. Surely. Please.

Guilt. Grief. Remorse. Pain. They were a thick fog that made the Light hard to find.

As if sensing her thoughts, Master Kenobi took a couple of steps back, angling his body away, giving them some more privacy. She knew he couldn’t go away entirely; the only way they had gotten the Clone Guards to agree to them being here was if Kenobi - a neutral presence - was with them at all times. After the horrible ordeal with Padawan Tano - … ex-Padawan Tano - Luminara could understand the Clones’ concern.

“Barriss.”

“Master.” Finally, Barriss looked down again, and Luminara was spared the beskar-cold bite of her bevii’ragir eyes. There wasn’t any accusation in those eyes, no pain nor fear nor guilt, but the spiritless acceptance of her fate was almost worse.

Luminara pressed a hand to her mouth and pinched her lips together tightly. 

“I know you won’t understand, Master,” Barriss continued, addressing the floor, “So please don’t ask me to explain. I tried. I’m tired.”

“I don’t understand,” Luminara said honestly, “But I wanted to speak with you anyway.”

“What is there to say?”

“I’m sorry.”

At this, Barriss’s head snapped up, and Luminara was again pierced like a Felucian firefly. The calmness the young paladin had looked up with before had scattered under the blaster-bolt heat in her eyes.

“You’re sorry?!” _Such incredulousness. Such shock. When was the last time I apologized to her? _

“Yes.” Luminara knelt on the other side of the laser-wall, directly across from Barriss, folding her hands in her lap, her flexible spine slightly further back than a Human could sit. She tucked her skirts under her the same way Barriss did. “You came to me for answers and encouragement, and I gave you the advice I thought was best for you. However, I didn’t see what I didn’t want to see, and so I didn’t notice you falling.”

“I just… I just wanted you to listen.”

Luminara knew, of course, that she had failed Barriss, but she didn’t understand how the techniques and meditations that had always helped her had not helped her old Padawan. There was no emotion that was too strong or overwhelming not to be released back into the Force with time and meditation. Was there?

“I should have listened to you.” She stopped, pressing her lips together, hoping that a sliver of hope would not be trampled. “Is it too late for me to listen now?”

“Yes.” Barriss looked away again. It seemed like even now, after everything, it still worried her to offend her Master.

Luminara nodded, not trusting her voice.

“Would you like to meditate with me, then?” she asked finally. _One last time?_ “I understand if you do not wish to.”

Silence. Barriss looked at the floor, her hands fluttering like wounded convoree in her lap. She was trying so hard to keep her face impassive, but the shifting, swirling paint-strokes of her brows gave her away. Luminara knew there must be a thousand emotions dancing like fire inside her, and she regretted not paying them the attention they so clearly craved before this moment.

Could she have stopped it? If she hadn’t been away for so long, if she hadn’t been so busy and overwhelmed, if the Jedi had been still free to stay on Coruscant for longer than it took to heal a concussion or shattered bone? Would she have noticed? Would she have done anything different, without the information she had now? The information that Barriss - sweet, compassionate, idealistic Barriss; quiet, reserved, contemplative Barriss - could and would fall so far.

No. Luminara couldn’t think like that, and she wouldn’t. It was no more her fault that Barriss had fallen than it was Yoda’s fault that Dooku had fallen, nor was it Arligan Zey’s fault than Bardan Jusik had fallen. Barriss was no longer her Padawan, and she had no control over the actions of a Knight.

Luminara felt shattered. Not just her bones, though that had happened more times before than she could count, but truly shattered, like a dropped braaken glass statue, like her soul itself was splintering.

“Yes.” The word was quiet, almost silent. Luminara looked at Barriss, and the quiet hope in the young paladin’s eyes drove a vibroblade into her weeping heart.

Slowly, Luminara raised her right hand, spreading her fingers flat, holding her palm up a mere millimetre from the electric red wall. On the other side of the cell, Barriss did the same. The two Jedi held their hands as close to touching, palm-to-palm, as they could, while Master Kenobi looked on.

Opening herself up to the Force, Luminara tried to come to terms with her betrayal and her guilt and her pain.

Opening herself up to the Force, Luminara tried to move on.


	2. Confrontation with the Admiral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luminara and Obi-Wan find a person waiting for them after their visit with Barriss.

When Masters Unduli and Kenobi again walked through the Clone-Guarded gate, there was a Human man in the pressed, grey uniform of a Republic Navy officer waiting for them by the exit of the prison. He stood military-erect, heels together, spine rigid, hands clasped tightly behind his back, and scowling.

Luminara knew such emotions were not the Jedi way, and she had only met the man all of three times maybe, but there was something about Admiral Wilhuff Tarkin that generated in her a deep-seated dislike. It wasn’t that he disliked the Jedi in return, or even that he didn’t want them leading the War Effort; that, Luminara could deal with, and if she were honest, she agreed with him about the role of Jedi in the War Effort. It was that Tarkin represented everything about the War and the Military that Luminara didn’t like: the part that enjoyed this bloodshed, that saw it only as ‘numbers’ and ‘successes’ and ‘means to an end’, rather than ‘people’ and ‘loss’ and ‘tragedy’. In some ways, he seemed to act like little more than a droid.

“Well,” the Admiral sniped, “I shouldn’t have bothered putting a ban on visitors to the Jedi traitor, given the number of you people who have insisted on barging in anyway.”

So much for formalities or introductions. Luminara’s lips pinched together tartly. This was the way this confrontation was to go then. So be it.

“Admiral Tarkin,” Master Kenobi started, raising his hands in truce. Chagrined and abashed by her willingness to start an open dispute with the Military man, Luminara breathed quiet sigh of relief that The Negotiator would handle the situation so that she didn’t have to. At this point, she didn’t know if she could. “We meant no disrespect for your rules….”

“Of course you did,” Tarkin interrupted, “Or else you would have come to me first for permission to view the prisoner, instead of intimidating my Guards into letting you without proper authorisation!”

She had made sure not to start a dispute with Tarkin, but apparently he had no such qualms. Luminara was patient, as all Jedi should be, and she was considerate. However, she was also exhausted, and overwrought, and shattered, and clearly on the end of her tether, and she could not abide this Admiral claiming to be the ‘proper authorisation’ for the act of speaking to her old Padawan.

“Admiral Tarkin.” Her tone was far more razor-edged than Kenobi’s had been, and she lifted her head with regal authority to stare the Admiral down. He was only a few centimetres taller than her, but even if he had been tall as a Gargantelle, he would not have intimidated her. “You are overstepping your bounds. Might I remind you that we are of equal rank. You are involved in the Trial as Prosecution Attorney, yes, and I understand that you have concerns after the… incident with Former Padawan Tano, but you have no right to declare who may see the prisoner and who may not. That right comes down to the Defence Attorney, Senator Padmé Amidala, who has us given her permission.”

“How dare you…! Overstepping my bounds…?!” the Admiral sputtered. His already energy-pike-erect spine straightening farther in his acerbity. “There is no reason for a Defence Attorney to have any right over this case any longer; it is under the jurisdiction of the Judicial Department, which is directly under the Chancellor’s control, _not_ the Jedi. Might I remind you that the prisoner has confessed in Court to her crimes - crimes which killed Civilians and Troopers, as well as your fellow Jedi. She is _dangerous_. She is to remain there, in a high security cell, in full lock-down, until the formwork for her execution can be finalised.”

“Execution?!” It was Luminara’s turn to look appalled, and she nearly staggered from the weight of the blow. _Execution?_ She wasn’t even aware that that was still allowed in the Republic. Behind her, Master Kenobi looked ill.

With almost sadistic delight, a sneered smile twisted the Admiral’s lip. Even the edges of his eyes creased with sonismoothed precision as they narrowed smugly.

“The Supreme Chancellor had already agreed that Former Padawan Tano was to be sentenced to death if found guilty. Now that Tano has been found only as a conspirator, not the mastermind, there’s no reason that the Penalty of Death should not be employed against the true traitor.”

There was so much in that tirade that Luminara couldn’t even pick a starting point in unravelling it all. Battling a rising tide of fury, Luminara took a calming, measured breath, still refusing to back down from Tarkin’s scowl.

“Admiral Tarkin,” Master Kenobi cut in, “At the Trial, I am sure I heard you ask the Court for the Penalty of Death for Former Padawan Tano, but I was not aware that the Chancellor had already approved it for Knight Offee upon the finding of Tano's innocence.”

Always the Negotiator. A good distinction, too, to remind Tarkin that Barriss had yet to be officially expelled from the Jedi Order, and hence could not yet be tried under civilian Courts. Luminara sent a quiet _thank you_ in her colleague’s direction.

Tarkin stiffened, his hands clenching behind his back, clearly affronted to be questioned by a Jedi.

“Immediately upon the end of the traitor’s Trial, I started on the formwork to sanction the use of the Penalty of Death in this instance. It has been handed over to the Chancellor to ratify, and it just requires one more signature. It is as good as done.”

Tarkin had not bothered with an introduction, and Luminara did not bother with a farewell. Barely waiting for Master Kenobi to follow her, she rushed past the infuriating Admiral, down the corridor, out of the prison, into her speeder, and onto the skylanes of Coruscant toward the Office of the Supreme Chancellor. She would argue her case, and she would fight for a fairer sentence. Barriss Offee may not be her Padawan any longer, and she may have committed an egregious crime, but Luminara would be damned if she just stood aside and let her be put to death.

Execution. If Tarkin’s plan was successful, Luminara would start to question if Barriss had been right about the decay of the Republic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, Wookieepedia had my back, so here's all the reference for the more obscure terms in this chapter (there aren't nearly as many this time):   
Gargantelle: https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Gargantelle  
Sonismoother: the Star Wars version of an iron. It doesn't have its own page, but https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/List_of_Star_Wars_equivalents_to_real-world_objects  
Formwork: the general sci-fi version of paperwork. You can't do paperwork in a place that doesn't use paper.   
Skylanes: https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Skylane


	3. Revenge is Not the Jedi Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It all comes to an end. Everything must.

Barriss wished her Master had just let them execute her. She had wished that a lot over the last four months. Not to get her wrong - she was grateful to her Master for her compassion, more grateful than she knew how to put into words - but… well. ‘The Rest of Her Natural Life’ was a long time to sit in a Force-Proof cell, with no datapads nor information chips or even a flimsi book, with nothing for company but the knowledge that it had all been for nothing anyway. Nothing had changed. The Jedi Council hadn’t listened to her. The War raged on. And Tutso and Letta and Jackar were still dead. Dead. For nothing. And, Barriss was here for the rest of her miserable life to think about that. 

_Why, Master? Why save me? Why not just let me face the punishment for my crimes?_ Barriss sat back on her hard, lumpy cot, rested her head against the durasteel wall, and closed her eyes. After every being she had seen her Master kill or seen her Master allow to die - Clones, Geonosians, Drongaran Humans, Umbarans - this was the hill Master Unduli had wanted to die on? She was willing to ignore the egregious breach of the Code and basic Sapient Rights every time she ordered the Clones under her command into battle; she was willing to ignore every concern Barriss raised with her about the War for three whole years; but it grated on Master Unduli’s sensibilities so much that she would risk being accused of unhealthy attachment to her old Padawan in order to make sure a single unarmed prisoner wasn’t put to death for committing High Treason and Sedition and Terrorism?

From what Barriss had overheard from the Clone Guards, Master Unduli had even given the Chancellor a piece of her mind over it. It was almost enough to make her smile, if it wasn’t such an enormous breach of etiquette. She would have paid good credits to be a dopplefly on the wall when _that_ conversation was taking place. Master Unduli, raising her voice to the Supreme Chancellor himself? She couldn’t even imagine it. Master Unduli never raised her voice. 

Barriss didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Stuck rotting in a cell in the bowels of the Jedi Temple - the only place that it was deemed she couldn’t escape from - she had plenty of time to do both.   
Barriss knew she wasn’t being entirely fair to her old Master. She was grateful. She appreciated the times Master Unduli had visited her, few and far between though they were, even if she knew damn well that her Master only visited her between bloody campaigns to innocent star systems. 

  
She just… she just didn’t know how to react to Master Unduli’s presence anymore. 

Barriss had idolised her Master. She had worked as hard as she could for so long to please her. Master Luminara Unduli was everything she wanted to be - knowledgeable, disciplined, clever, capable, compassionate, respectable, patient, calm, and fair - and letting her down had been the thing Barriss feared most in the galaxy. In her eyes, Master Luminara could do no wrong. Barriss hadn’t even been upset when Master Unduli had almost left her and Ahsoka for dead on Geonosis. She had expected no less. Jedi did not form attachments. Even in regards to their Padawans, they knew that they would one day have to say goodbye, and they prepared for that. 

After witnessing the carnage after the Battle of Umbara, the Battle of Drongar, the Battle of Mygeeto, Barriss knew she couldn’t do it anymore. She just couldn’t do it. She was prepared to let go of those whose time it was, but the people she saw die - that she had had to kill - had been ripped away from their lives by the tractor beam flashes of blaster bolts and the heavy anchors of artillery rounds. Barriss was a Healer, not a soldier! She couldn’t do this; it was driving her mad. Why didn’t the Council understand that?!

And, then, Barriss’ heart had been infected with doubt. It had grown like a sickly mould in her chest, this sense that something was wrong, bad, evil, falling, failing, shouldn’t be doing this, what has happened to us? Like a meteor plunging into a distant sea, Barriss had watched her Master fall, and the betrayal had felt like a seismic charge detonated in the hollow, rotting cavity of her chest. 

Then, it was seeking out the Anti-War groups. Then, it was talking to Letta. Then, it was forming a plan. Then, it was Ahsoka, and terrible guilt, and pain like vibroblades, and red lightsabers, and a prison cell cold and barren as a Hoth wasteland, and the knowledge she had done exactly as she once feared. She had let her Master down. And, she didn’t even think that that was such a bad thing. 

Barriss was grateful for everything Master Unduli had done for her, but how could she forgive her? It wasn’t that her Master hadn’t been there for the horrible tenday before the Trial - Barriss knew that no one had contacted her. There hadn’t been any reason to before the Trial itself; it wasn’t like Barriss had been a suspect - it was that Master Unduli hadn’t been there for her in the years before now. Barriss had needed her Master’s compassion and support; she had needed to be listened to; she had needed someone to heal her mind, not just her body. 

Barriss curled up on her lumpy cot, wrapping her arms around herself protectively, burying her face in her knees, and choking back a rough sob.

She had been so angry. 

She was so angry. 

So angry. 

That anger wasn’t hers. 

Barriss curled in on herself tighter and tighter as a fury hotter than she had ever felt battered at the red laser-door and licked up the walls of her cell. Pain came a second later, ice-cold and burning, agony like wampa claws ripping into her back like her thick tunic wasn’t even there. Even through the Force-resistant cell, the Dark Side billowed in down the low stairs like acrid smoke, smothering and harsh and stinging. The Dark Side made it hard to breathe, hard to think, like she was drowning in frozen carbosyrup. 

_What’s happening? WHAT’S HAPPENING?!?! _

A violent death in the Force felt to Barriss’ Healer mind like a star imploding, a fiery blaze of heat and pain that scorched her mind’s eye and evaporated her breath, before burning itself out to darkness and peace after a moment. 

This felt like the end of the universe. There was no peace. There was no serenity. There was no harmony. There was only death. Ten thousand bright suns flaring out within a minute, heat that seared and crackled like an inferno across her skin. It was so intense that Barriss stared at her bare hands, expecting to see bubbled red burns on green flesh. 

_Make it stop! What’s happening?! No! Make. It. Stop! Please. Please…._

It hurt to think. It hurt to fear. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to be. 

She felt their deaths come like rolling thunder, unceasing and deafening and overwhelming. She toppled over on her cold bunk, twitching and convulsing, spittle trickling down her rigid jaw. She lay like a corpse - her limbs curled like gnarled claws, muscles stiff as rigor mortis - as searing spikes of death-pain shocked down her nerves like lightning. 

_No. No no no no no…. No more. No more! Please. Please, please, please. No! NO!_

The towers of the Temple above her fell down, down, down, crushing her, pinning her under layers of rubble and corpses. The death of the Temple felt like the formation of a black hole, like a whirling darkness sucking up all light in its path. 

_So Many. Deaths. So many deaths. So many deaths so many deaths somanydeathssomakedeathssomanydeaths. _

The Jedi were dead. Barriss felt them die, and she could do nothing but scream. 

When the fiery blaze burnt down to embers, the Force itself mourned. It felt lonely, even lonelier than the months she’d spent in isolation. It felt empty, the void of space without stars. It felt dark. It felt cold. 

She was cold. 

She was so cold. 

Oh, stars, she was so cold. 

Barriss couldn’t make herself sit up. It still hurt too much. Her limbs were too heavy, too cold, too numb. It felt like a sun had imploded in her chest, obliterating her heart and lungs, and her ribs rushed in to fill the vacuum, crushing her from the inside out. Instead, she lay still and made herself breathe - not to meditate; the Force was so full of its own grief that it couldn’t bear the weight of hers - but just to check that she really wasn’t dead.

She wanted to be dead. It should have been her. She knew the Jedi would fall - it was only a matter of time - but not like this. Not like this. The Jedi were guilty, and the deaths of some to save the others was an acceptable sacrifice, but this? This wasn’t salvation. This was genocide. This was systematic murder: system by system, planet by planet, battle field by battle field: outpost by outpost, temple by temple, home by home. 

The galaxy had imploded in on itself, and a black hole was all that remained. The Jedi were dead. 

Barriss was so deep in grief that she didn’t sense a presence approaching, a figure cloaked in cold fury and spiny fear layered over thick, gleaming armour. She only looked up when the laser-wall deactivated, and a looming, black-clad monster lumbered into her cell with laboured breaths and freezing billows of hatred. She said nothing as the monster stopped before her low cot, but she noted the… the lightsaber? hung on its belt. She flinched as it spoke, its voice deep as the Deep Ocean of Tython and as grating as an IG-86 assassin droid. 

“The Emperor thinks you could be of use to him. Is he correct?” 

Barriss forced herself to sit up, to face the creature. If she were to die now, she wanted to die with dignity. The monster radiated things that made her want to run away, to hide, to cower, to slide into the pools of her worst memories and drown, but underneath that, underneath the boiling emotions it wore like its armour, there was… something…. Even the pattern of its hate and anger felt familiar, somehow. If she could keep the creature talking, if she could figure out what had happened…. 

“Emperor? The Republic doesn’t have an Emperor. What does this ‘Emperor’ want with me?” 

“You have been locked away here for a while.” The words didn’t sound like a taunt, but the grating tone did. “You were right, Barriss Offee. The Jedi are traitors. Master Mace Windu himself attempted to assassinate the Chancellor and seize power for himself. To keep the peace, the Republic has become the First Galactic Empire. Now, we are looking for those willing to hunt down and kill the last of the traitorous Jedi. You, Jedi Killer, are a perfect candidate.” 

“I… I don’t believe…. I’m not…” Barriss had heard every word that came out of the creature’s vocoder, but she didn’t understand them. She had no great love for Master Windu - he had been one of the Leaders of the Council that had allowed the Jedi fall so far that she thought it necessary to do what she did - but to kill the Chancellor? She didn’t believe it. She couldn’t. Had the Jedi really fallen so far? Who was this creature? What was its agenda? Could she trust it? It was the first being she had seen since she had been locked here. 

“Not a Jedi Killer?” the creature enquired, “I’m not sure Tutso Mara would agree.” 

How did this creature know about Tutso? How dare… it mock his death! Surrounded by the Dark Side, Barriss felt her anger flare, and if she was anyone else, she would have lashed out at her tormentor. As it was, her limbs shook with the temptation to land a kick to that glowing chest panel. 

_No._ What was happening to her?

Barriss Offee was a studious young woman. She was quiet and contemplative, and she was well accustomed to hard work. She was skilled in sitting with a puzzle until she had cracked it, whether that puzzle be an old Jedi riddle, an elusive bit of research… or the odd sense that buzzed like biting firebeetles around this monster. 

Ahsoka had called her stubborn, and she had disagreed - Jedi were not stubborn; they were resolute, steadfast, determined - but if Barriss was really overriding her fear with curiosity, maybe Ahsoka was right.

There was so much Ahsoka was right about. Barriss would likely never know what happened to her. She prayed that she was still alive. Maybe, one day, she would see her again, and she could apologise. 

As soon as Ahsoka’s name formed in her mind, the air around her dropped three degrees, and the creature made a sound that could only be described as a growl. 

With the clarity of a holoimager throwing an image into a dim room, Barriss remembered the last moment she had sensed this same anger and hatred. With the clarity of a holoimager showing his name, she knew who this creature was. Or, who he had been. 

She spoke his name without thinking. 

“Master Skywalker.” 

Barriss couldn’t see his face, but the rising storm of hatred and the rolling thunder of fury painting a clear expression over his warped mask. She waited, holding her breath, pressing her back against the cold durasteel wall. 

“What a waste,” he said finally, “You have just become a liability. I consider your decision made.” 

She didn’t have time to ask what he meant. Barriss Offee’s last thoughts were of a flash of red, a moment of pain, and then peace at last. 

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to make this story as in-world and in-character as possible, and I ended up spending hours and hours on Wookieepedia instead of actually writing it. So, to reference my research for the more obscure terms:  
Holoscanner: the Star Wars version of an x-ray machine (the Wookieepedia page is pretty basic)  
Felucian Firefly: https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Felucian_firefly  
Vibrorazor: a miniature vibroblade https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Vibroblade (So, vibrorazors don't really exist, but bear with me and my minor creative liberties.)  
Bevii'ragir: https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Bevii%27ragir  
Jedi Guardian: https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Jedi_Guardian  
Jedi Consular: https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Consular_Jedi  
Convoree: https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Convor (I know the proper singular form is 'convor', but seriously, convoree just sounds so much cooler (and less like 'condor', which is very much of our world).)  
Braaken Glass: https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Braaken_glass (I'm taking this to be like blown glass.)


End file.
